


Sour Sugar

by challengingEuphoria



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Coming of Age, Family, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Minor Violence, Underage Drug Use, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28483299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/challengingEuphoria/pseuds/challengingEuphoria
Summary: The heat of summer sunk lazily over the suburbs, submerging them in a boiling, humming humidity. It melted the asphalt and boiled the air, turning the trees down the street into simmering spectres, clearing the sky of all its clouds, and pouring sweat into every crevice. With summer crawled the inevitable passage of time, and with that, time for old friendships to fall apart.OrTommy and Tubbo run a lemonade stand together the Summer before 6th grade.
Relationships: Jschlatt & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot, Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 6
Kudos: 109





	1. Lemon and Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> hey girl first fanfic ahaha

“Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Where’d you put the cups?”

\-----

It had been almost a week since school had let out. Tommy and Tubbo embraced their freedom with open arms, relishing in the long, hot days with nothing important to do and no one important to listen to. They had finally finished elementary school, having stuck together since their first day of kindergarten, and they took their reward enthusiastically. 

They liked to think back to those days when the world was still fresh and terrifying and their hands were still little. Tommy laughed, sometimes, remembering how Tubbo clung to his mother’s dress the first time they met. The tinier Tommy had stuck out a sticky hand, announced his name, and coaxed the small stranger out from the familiar safety of his caregiver. Tubbo took his hand timidly, yanking it once in a shake, and let Tommy guide him wherever he wanted to go. The two grew closer, and closer still throughout the year, and by their very first summer, they were inseparable. 

The same could be said for the years that followed. Eventually, Tubbo came out of his shell, and Tommy grew more patient. At some point along the way, the two traded their initial positions: Tommy’s friendliness was reserved solely for Tubbo, and Tubbo shed his shy demeanor to socialize for the both of them. They never strayed too far from one another, and why would they? Tommy brought out the confidence in Tubbo, and Tubbo made Tommy kind. They silently decided they were made for each other, and with no one else around to disagree, they never had any reason to let go of the other’s hand.

Their summers were always delightful. The two never flourished in the school environment, what with Tommy’s constant need to move and Tubbo’s tendency to zone out whenever something important was being said. In 3rd grade, when Tommy’s older brothers got diagnosed with something called ADHD, the pair had gotten a much-needed test of their own, and their results did more than enough to explain their difficulties in school.

In the summer, there was always something to do, yet it was never anything demanding enough to irritate the two. There were no stale classrooms to sit still in, no need to take pills to pay attention, and most importantly, nothing to separate them from each other. The worst part of every day was the night time, when Tubbo had to leave Tommy’s house to get back to his own home. When the boys came home crying about being separated from their friend every night, their parents worked out a deal: Tubbo could sleep over at Tommy’s house as long as he was fed properly and his mother saw him alive and well the next day. 

The boys didn’t go home crying again after that day.

Tommy’s house was Tubbo’s favorite place in the world. It was big, much bigger than Tubbo’s home, and every inch of it was covered in some sort of reminder of who inhabited it. Tubbo’s mother liked to keep her house clean and orderly, and while Tubbo preferred its perfect neatness to the mess Tommy’s house sometimes became, he felt as though it never truly belonged to him. There was no evidence he lived there. None of his clothes left out on the back of a chair, no special vases or decorations, no photos hung up on the walls. It was dreary in its order, plain in its cleanliness, and soulless in its purity.

Tommy’s house was covered head to toe in meaning. Everywhere he looked, Tubbo could see some sort of representation of its inhabitants. Wilbur’s guitar left sitting out on the couch, atop which lay a pillow Techno had haphazardly sewn together for Phil, whose slippers lay thrown across the rug, where Tubbo and Tommy now sat fidgeting with the carpet and watching the people on the TV chat about nothing. There was always some sort of noise in Tommy’s house, whether it be the shaky notes of a keyboard echoing out from Wilbur’s room, or the clanging of pots and pans as Phil did the dishes, or the annoyed huffs that came from Techno as Tommy beat him at another round of mario kart. 

With Tubbo’s almost constant presence, he too had begun marking the place up, with several of his drawings hung up around the house, as well a bowl and cup with his name written in black sharpie on them. Tubbo felt welcome there, comforted by Tommy’s solid weight against him and the playful teasing of his brothers. Phil was a patient, gentle man, and Tubbo felt safe in his home. 

Sometimes, when Tubbo lay awake at night in his cot next to Tommy’s bed, he would pretend he was really part of their family. 

\-----

“I reckon we set up some sorta lemonade stand.”

It was a passing thought, really, just like many other ideas that drifted in and out of Tubbo’s head every minute. He was sitting on the curb next to Tommy, as always, sweat dripping from his forehead onto the asphalt below. It was hot out, but Tubbo knew there was worse to come. That’s when the lemonade stand idea entered his mind. Nothing helped cool the summer heat better than a cold glass of lemonade, and he was terribly thirsty and bored at the moment. He didn’t think Tommy would make a big deal out of it, so he was shocked out of his sweltering stupor when the blond beside him shrieked and stood up. 

“Oh my god, Tubbo! You’re a genius!” Tommy yelped. His back ached slightly from the sudden change in position. Tubbo looked up at him with a hand covering his eyes from the brutal sunlight. Tommy gave him a hand and pulled him up to meet his height. 

“I needed some way to pay Wil back for those popsicles he got us. Remember?” Tommy said, dragging Tubbo along with him down the street back to his house. 

“I wasn’t even thinking about the money, honestly. Just wanted something to do,” Tubbo mumbled. 

“You gotta think big picture, big man. Who doesn’t want lemonade? Like, ever?”

“Surely they’ll want it more than ever with this heat.”

“Exactly!”

The pair talked as they made their way to Tommy’s house. They agreed they needed lemonade, of course, and a constant supply of it. That, and somewhere to sell it. Tubbo suggested they build a stand, and when Tommy pointed out that neither of them knew how to build anything, Tubbo clarified Phil would be the one doing it, much to Tommy’s relief.

The house’s freezing air conditioning was a divine gift to the boys. They soaked in the chilly air for a minute or two before veering off towards the kitchen, where Phil was busy preparing lunch. 

“Dad, can you build us a lemonade stand?” asked Tommy eagerly. 

Phil raised his eyebrows as he sliced up a tomato for the sandwiches.

“Starting a business already? Aren’t you like, ten?” Phil teased and turned to throw out the leafy part of the tomato.

“Eleven, actually. Look, Tubbo, he’s going all loopy already,” Tommy said, jabbing at Tubbo’s side. Tubbo, focused on the stand, got back to the topic at hand.

“Please, Phil? We can pay you back for your time once we really get started. Promise.” Tubbo pulled his best puppy-eyes.

“I don’t know.. Where are you getting your lemons?” Phil asked.

The boys hadn’t thought about that part yet. Tommy intervened before Tubbo could come up with any sort of plan.

“You can get ‘em for us at first, then we can pay you back later, like Tubbo said,” the blond boy offered. 

Phil hummed for a minute, drawing in suspense, then shrugged and agreed. 

“Yeah, why not. I’ll get started on the stand when I finish up with lunch, alright? You boys sit in here til I’m done, don’t want you dying of heat stroke or anything,” Phil said, dismissing them. 

Tommy and Tubbo turned to each other gleefully and high-fived.

\----- 

Phil was never much of a carpenter, but he tried his best to make the stand as livable as possible. Along with the standard table section and large panel in front, he added a roof large enough to hide the boys from the sun. He made sure there was space to put all sorts of pitchers and coins and whatever other items the boys collected along the way. Phil made sure to rid the wood of any splinters that could harm the kids and pulled out an old yellow-and-white tablecloth from beneath the kitchen sink. He expected the boys to get tired with sitting around all day almost immediately, and made peace with the fact that all this spare time had gone to waste building a stand that would last at most a week. The building process was fun regardless, and Phil looked forward to the day the boys would pull the old structure out of the garage in their teens and look back on it with nostalgia.

Phil was also expecting the boys to be a bit disappointed with his work, so he was pleasantly surprised to see how much they absolutely adored it.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! Oh my god, this is so sick,” Tommy shouted, hugging Phil tightly before running towards the stand. Tubbo followed close behind, quickly thanking Phil with a wide grin. The boys investigated every inch of the stand, planning out where they would put everything, and just as Phil ensured, there was plenty of space. 

“This is wonderful, but we oughta decorate it, right?” Tubbo suggested after the pair had properly admired the stand. 

An hour later, the stand was covered head to toe in chalk. Tubbo took most of the artistic control, drawing vines curling around the stall’s poles with detailed flowers poking out here and there. On the bottom of the stall, he drew a garden landscape, the flowers seeming to grow up from where they put the structure on the grass next to the sidewalk. He even drew a few bumblebees on the stall, some resting on the chalk flowers while others flew around them. Tommy, of course, made his own additions, including a messy drawing of a dinosaur in the corner which he promptly named Dave.

Tubbo scrawled the word “Lemonade” in yellow chalk on the broad top of the stand, and though he wrote more than half of the letters wrong, he smiled at his work.

The boys swelled with pride when Phil had them stand for a picture. When it was done developing, Phil put it up on the fridge right next to a picture Tubbo had drawn of him and Tommy in the 1st grade. He smiled at it fondly and grabbed a bag of lemons he had bought earlier, along with a large glass pitcher filled with water, a bag of sugar, and enough plastic cups to last the rest of the day. 

The boys thanked Phil again when he instructed them on how to make the lemonade just right and left them to return inside with a wave. 

Tommy and Tubbo turned to each other with smiles plastered across their boyish faces, clinked their near-overflowing plastic cups together, and drank their first lemonades of the summer.


	2. Bitter Water

As it turns out, a lemonade stand was just what the neighborhood needed. 

Tommy and Tubbo had been running the stand for just three days and had already made enough money to pay Wilbur back for the popsicles and thank Phil for his help. Though they charged only two dollars per drink, their neighbors had come by in swarms, emptying their supply by the first day. Tommy and Tubbo were kept busy almost constantly, yet they delighted in the process of mixing sugar and lemon juice and water all together. Tommy, in particular, especially enjoyed the money-making aspect.

“Look, Tubbo, we’re rich!” Tommy exclaimed, throwing a pile of one dollar bills onto the stand from where he had been gathering them below. He counted them individually, making sure to add in the many coins they earned, to find a sum of 30 dollars and 25 cents.

Tubbo cleaned up the last batch of plastic cups before turning to Tommy with a smile. “Surely we split it by half, yeah?”

Tommy paused for a minute and looked down at the pile. He separated the bills in half, counted the exact amount of coins, only to find a small issue.

“There’s a penny off.”

“What do you mean?” Tubbo asked, confused.

“Well, we’ve got the 25 cents, and we can split 24, but then there’s one penny left and if one of us gets that then it isn’t even,” Tommy explained, frustrated. He frowned down at the coins.

Tubbo looked at him questioningly. “You can have it, Tom,” he offered.

Tommy shook his head. “No, no. It’s gotta be even.”

“Hm. Can I have it?” 

Tommy looked up from the coins to stare at Tubbo indignantly. 

“Right, right. Gotta be even,” Tubbo said, backing off. “How about we just give it to Phil?” 

Tommy hummed and nodded in agreement. The boys were just about ready to head home when a crowd of kids came strolling down the street. The pair recognized them, of course, having lived in the neighborhood for a while. Tubbo was always the more social one of the two, kindness coming easily to him. Tommy chatted with the kids as well, but never as much as Tubbo, wary of other kids his age that weren’t his best friend. 

The crowd of children walked up to the stand to greet the pair. Ranboo, a soon-to-be 8th grader that had hit his growth spurt early and towered over the rest of the children, spoke first. 

“Hey guys! What’s this?” he asked, pointing to the stand. The rest of the kids fanned out around him, gazing up at the stall with wide eyes.

Tubbo posed proudly. “It’s our lemonade stand! We’re closed for now, just ran out of drinks. We’ll be open tomorrow, and for the rest of the summer too, hopefully!” 

The crowd was amazed. Tommy shrunk back into the stall a bit, shy from the attention and confident that Tubbo would carry the conversation for them. He grabbed the cash off the front of the stand and started counting it again, trying to look busy.

“How much is a lemonade?” Ranboo asked. 

“Just two dollars!” Tubbo announced. The children looked at each other excitedly. Ranboo nodded chiefly. 

“We’ll be back tomorrow with enough money, then. How much have you made already?” the taller boy wondered. Tommy looked up from the bills in his hand. 

“Exactly 30 dollars and 4 cents! Well, technically 5 cents, but we’re giving one away so it’s even,” Tommy explained loudly, piping up from where he sat in the shade of the stand. At the answer, the crowd of kids gasped in awe. Tommy and Tubbo stood proudly until they calmed down.

“Jeez, I didn’t know lemonade could be so profitable,” Ranboo said. He smiled down at the pair. “You’ll be rich by the time we go back to school!”

The boys laughed. “Yeah, hopefully,” Tubbo agreed. 

Beside Ranboo, a shorter girl, Niki, piped up. “You’ll be starting middle school, right?”

At that, Tommy faltered a bit. He didn’t want to think about middle school yet. The thought of going to a new place filled with new people scared him, even if he knew Tubbo would be by his side the whole time. 

“Yup. I think it’s the same one you guys go to, actually,” Tubbo replied. More than a few of the kids in front of them were middle schoolers. 

“That’s great! You excited to make new friends?” Niki prompted, and Tubbo nodded with a grin.

Tommy inhaled sharply. He and Tubbo had discussed middle school many times before now, but they never brought up the idea of “new friends.” Tommy knew his friend would have no problem befriending people, but what if he ended up liking those new kids more than he liked him?

Tommy shook the thought from his head immediately. Tubbo wouldn’t abandon him like that. He was stupid for even considering it. Under no circumstance would they separate, Tommy decided. 

But... what if Tubbo wanted to? 

As Tommy drifted in and out of Tubbo and Niki’s conversation, his mind started to run wild. What if when they went back to school, Tubbo made a bunch of new friends and he decided he liked their company better than Tommy’s? Tommy knew he wouldn’t be able to talk to people like Tubbo could, knew that if his best friend suddenly left him behind, there was no way he could come back from it. 

Tommy was loud. He scared new people off with teasing that became too harsh too soon. He had only ever allowed one person to get close, annoying everyone else who tried to interfere in their friendship, and what if Tubbo had finally grown sick of him and left? There were probably a thousand people that fit Tubbo better, and what if he met some of them at this new school? Hell, he seemed to be getting along better with the kids in front of him than he had with Tommy in days. Some tiny part of Tommy whispered that Tubbo was only being polite, but it was quickly silenced by the blaring alarms that filled Tommy’s head with anxiety. 

“..ommy? Tommy?” Tubbo’s voice was tinged with concern. Tommy blinked out of his thoughts and looked down at his friend. 

“Sorry, I zoned out. What?” 

“Niki asked how Techno was doing,” Tubbo explained, looking at him strangely. 

Niki and Techno had both recently finished 8th grade. You wouldn’t be able to tell by how small Niki was, with her soft voice and tiny frame that barely rose above Tubbo’s. On the contrary, Techno’s tired eyes and hulking, hunched form made him seem much older than he was, along with his cold, mature demeanor. The two had been friends since 6th grade, though they were never anywhere near as close as Tommy and Tubbo.

Tommy hadn’t seen Techno in a while. His brother tended to retreat into his room in the summer, preferring the cool air conditioning and blue glow of his computer screen to the sweltering heat and harsh sunlight outside. Tommy only ever saw him late at night in the kitchen, disposing of his collection of used cups and plates. He sometimes joked with Tubbo that his brother was nocturnal, some sort of beast that only came out in the darkest, loneliest hours of the night to do his business. Techno certainly had the temper of such a creature.

“He’s the same, y’know. Off in his room all the time,” Tommy shrugged. Niki’s eyebrows creased with worry. 

“Is he alright? He normally responds to texts, but he hasn’t said anything. I haven’t seen him since we left,” she asked softly.

Tommy snorted. “Yeah, he’s fine. This happens every summer. Guess he’s just being super moody this time. Next time I see him I’ll tell him to text you.” At that, Niki’s shoulders relaxed. 

“Right, then. It’s getting a bit dark, and mosquitos will come out soon. We’d better get going home,” Tubbo announced, gathering the empty bag of sugar and used plastic cups into his arms. Tommy slid their earnings into his back pocket and the pair waved goodbye to the crowd of kids, who walked off to their houses for dinner. 

\-----

“You don’t normally zone out, you know,” Tubbo wondered aloud. 

They had just finished cleaning up dinner with Phil. Tommy’s dad had made spaghetti, and the boys scarfed it down almost immediately after a long day of work at the lemonade stand. They gave Phil the leftover penny and he accepted it graciously, tossing it into the piggy bank that sat atop the kitchen counter. Tommy pulled their earnings out of his pocket and handed Tubbo his fair share, who took it with glee. The boys chugged the rest of their apple juice, washed their bowls, and ran up the stairs to Tommy’s room.

There, they were starting up Minecraft on Tommy’s console when Tubbo made the observation.

Truth be told, Tommy had been thinking about what happened earlier that day at the lemonade stand, too. Tubbo was right. Tommy almost never zoned out, especially not in the middle of a conversation. Though he was rarely the one speaking, he was always attentive and present, watching Tubbo talk on and on with ease. Even in school, Tommy was always listening, even if he didn’t want to be most of the time. He wished he could turn his brain off on command like Tubbo seemed to be able to. Instead, he suffered through nonstop boring lectures every day, informing Tubbo on what was being taught on the bus rides home.

However, Tommy was preoccupied. He had thought about Tubbo leaving him before, but he never allowed it to consume him like this. All throughout dinner, every lull in the conversation was filled with racing thoughts of abandonment in Tommy’s head. 

He knew he could resolve the issue now, let Tubbo know exactly what he was feeling, but something inside him convinced him otherwise. If he told Tubbo, his friend might think he was jealous and want to leave him even more. And that, that was wrong. Tommy never got jealous.

“Yeah, I was just tired, I guess,” Tommy shrugged and clicked on his and Tubbo’s shared Minecraft world.

Tubbo paused and looked at him. “You know I can tell when you’re lying, right?” 

Tommy shifted awkwardly in his place. 

“You can tell me if something’s wrong, Tommy,” Tubbo said, voice softening.

Tommy sighed and looked down at his controller. “Well, it’s just that.. Do you think we’ll still be friends when we get to middle school?”

Tubbo inhaled sharply. 

“Well, cus, you know, it’s like a bunch of new people, and you’re good at talking to people and I’m just not, and what if, what if you end up liking them more than me, what if we don’t talk as much anymore, and-”

“Tommy.”

Tommy looked up from his shaking hands to meet Tubbo’s worried eyes. He hadn’t seen his friend look so concerned in a while.

“You know I wouldn’t leave you like that, Tom.” Tubbo’s voice was quiet but strong. The boy beside him let out a nervous breath he’d been holding.

“I know.” 

Tubbo leaned forward to hug his friend, who hadn’t realized he was crying until arms wrapped around his back in a tight embrace. 

\-----

The next day, Tommy didn’t zone out when the crowd of kids came back to the lemonade stand.


	3. Honeybee Buzz

Two weeks had passed since the boys first opened up the lemonade stand. 

With the brutal heat of June came more customers. At that point, Tubbo and Tommy had started to acquire a few regulars. There was the crowd of children that came by nearly every afternoon, chatting with Tubbo while Tommy anxiously stood beside him in the shade, as well as several adults that would stop by after their morning runs in dire need of a cold drink. Many of the boys’ neighbors had made it part of their daily routine to pay a visit to the stand, and the pair welcomed them with enthusiasm.

Today was an especially busy day. It wasn’t particularly hot out, there was no holiday, and the boys hadn’t done anything special to advertise the stand, but for some reason, customers were coming out in droves. The pair had run out of nearly three full pitchers of water already, so when Tommy spotted his older brother fumbling over a cup of ice cream on his third trip to the kitchen that day, a brilliant idea entered his mind.

“Wilbur, come help us with the stand!” Tommy offered, renewed excitement filling his words.

Wilbur looked up from the cup of ice cream on the counter. He blinked once, twice in a haze, stared at his little brother deliriously, then straightened up and fully turned to face Tommy.

“The stand?” Wilbur slurred with confusion on his face.

Tommy huffed and moved towards the sink to refill the pitcher. “Yes, Wil, the stand! It’s busier than ever for some reason. We need help,” he explained hurriedly.

Wilbur paused for a moment more, then nodded. “Right, then, what do you need me to do?”

Tommy led his stumbling older brother outside, explaining rather quickly what had to be done. Wilbur, in his stupor, left his forgotten ice cream to melt atop the kitchen counter.

\-----

Tommy believed there to be two sides to his older brother.

The first, Tommy had known since Phil first adopted him. That Wilbur was a proud, cranky person that teased Tommy like it was part of his religion. He liked playing music, chatting with strangers, and studying things that Tommy thought were, quite frankly, boring. That Wilbur was deeply observant, more so than Tommy could ever hope to be, and he always seemed to be right no matter what was being discussed. That Wilbur, despite his constant teasing, loved his family fiercely, and his family loved him all the same.

The other Wilbur was different. Tommy didn’t dislike him, of course, but he much preferred the first Wilbur. This Wilbur, the one tripping over himself on the sidewalk beside Tommy, was achingly slow in his movements. He laughed too hard at things that weren’t funny, stared too long at things that didn’t really warrant that much staring, and barely paid any attention to what Tommy said. He rarely got angry like the other Wilbur, which was one of the few things Tommy quite liked about him, yet that calmness was, more often than not, accompanied by an aloofness that Tommy despised more than anything. 

Wilbur, as a whole, hadn’t been around much that summer. He slept in every day until noon, then usually left the house an hour after that. He grabbed the few remnants of lunch, showered, and walked outside to join his friends in their jeep. Tommy didn’t see him again until late in the night, when he came stumbling back into his bedroom only to repeat the same process again the next day. This was normal for Wil, Tommy knew, having watched the same thing happen the last two summers, but he often found himself missing the times when his brother would play outside with just him and Tubbo.

For whatever reason, Wilbur’s friends hadn’t come to pick him up that day. Tommy didn’t ask why, and Wilbur didn’t mention it, so the two just continued on their way back to the lemonade stand. Tommy ranted on and on, and Wilbur, not paying any attention whatsoever, hummed and nodded along as they walked. 

“So after you squeeze the lemons, you gotta put ‘em off to the side cus sometimes there’s a bit more juice left in them and we run out of the ones we got,” Tommy rambled. 

“Oh, cool,” muttered Wilbur. 

Tommy stopped in his tracks to look his older brother in the eye. “You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?”

At that, Wilbur broke out into barking laughter. Tommy scowled at him and continued to walk, ignoring his delighted snorts as they approached the lemonade stand.

Tubbo was obviously overwhelmed with having to deal with the swarm of customers all alone, so Tommy’s return made him breathe a sigh of relief. Tubbo wasn’t expecting Tommy’s older brother to follow him into the stand, but he wasn’t going to refuse any additional help.

“Wil’s helping us today,” Tommy explained and got to work stirring more lemonade. “Wilbur, clean these cups off, would you?” he instructed, tossing Wilbur a stack of used plastic cups and a wet rag. The teenager caught them with fumbling hands, sat himself down on the nearest stool, and got to work.

\-----

With Wilbur’s help, the boys drove off the winding line of customers within an hour. Now, they sat on the curb relaxing, having no one to serve and nothing important left to be done. Tommy and Tubbo were caught up in a conversation, and beside them, Wilbur sat staring at his splayed fingers and chuckling quietly to himself.

“Right, but did he do anything after?” Tubbo asked, urging Tommy to continue with his story. 

Wilbur hadn’t been listening, as usual, but that caught his attention. 

“Who’re you talkin’ about?” Wilbur slurred. The boys turned to face him.

“Techno. He was acting real strange last night. First time I’ve seen him in a week, I think. I came out to the kitchen to grab some snacks around midnight and he was just sat at the table staring off at the wall,” Tommy explained. “Normally, he’s in his room, and even when he comes out at night it’s only for a minute. I tried talking to him, but he didn’t say anything. Didn’t even move. It’s like he didn’t know I was there.”

Wilbur stared blankly. “Was he asleep?”

Tommy shook his head. “No, his eyes were wide open!” 

“Maybe he’s like a snake, sleeping without closing his eyes,” Tubbo mused.

“Yeah, but why would he sleep in the kitchen of all places? It just doesn’t make any sense,” Tommy exclaimed with a huff. “Anyways, I just left him alone and got the snacks after that. When we woke up, he had gone back to his room, but he was still sat there when I left.”

The three sat puzzled in silence until Tubbo spoke again.

“Surely we go check up on him, make sure he’s alright? Remember the first time the group came around and his friend Niki was talking about how he wasn’t responding to her texts? Maybe that’s got something to do with it,” Tubbo prompted. 

“Techno’s always a bit of a bitch,” Wilbur slurred. The boys turned to gape at him, not used to hearing him swear. “He’s so moody all the time, and for what? Just enjoy the summer, man,” the teenager continued. His eyes seemed focused on some distant object.

Tommy chuckled uncomfortably. “I mean, you’re not wrong, but what if something bad really is going on with him?”

“Wouldn’t hurt to see how he’s doing,” Tubbo decided, standing up. Tommy followed suit, as did Wilbur, reluctantly. The three grabbed the leftover supplies from the lemonade stand and walked back to the house.

\-----

Tommy didn’t remember a time when Techno’s door wasn’t closed. 

The blond boy almost always kept his door open. It allowed the air conditioning to better fill his room, made him feel less lonely on the rare days Tubbo wasn’t around, and allowed him to see all the way down the hallway from its position at the end. Tommy enjoyed the feeling of being connected to his family, even if that just meant keeping his door open. The few times he closed the door were right after particularly loud fights with his brothers, when he just needed to be alone for a bit to cool off. Then, a couple of hours later, when Tommy had recovered from whatever happened, the door would be wide open again.

Wilbur allowed his door to crack open most of the time. He preferred having some sort of privacy, as most teenagers do, but he never felt the need to close it all the way. He trusted his family to leave him alone whenever he was in his room, and he spent enough time socializing with them when he was home, anyways. 

Techno, however, never left his door open. Tommy hadn’t bothered to check, but he was almost certain his brother locked it, too. It was no surprise, really. Techno himself was always closed off, distanced from the rest of them. The few nights he joined them for dinner, he was always silent throughout the entire meal, retreating back to his room the minute he finished eating. It took several knocks to get him to open the door, and even then, his responses were short and quiet, and he barely opened the door enough to fit his face through. Tommy was pretty sure he hadn’t seen the inside of Techno’s room in months. 

That’s why he was surprised to find the door wide open with Techno sitting idly at his computer inside.

The room was a mess. Tommy and Tubbo didn’t dare to step inside because from where they stood at the door, they couldn’t see a single clear path that led to Techno. The floor was littered with candy wrappers, old clothes, and junk, some of it spilling out into the hallway without the barrier of a locked door to keep it inside. The boys yelped in disgust, backing away from the doorway and nearly bumping into Wilbur, who stood leaning against the wall nonchalantly.

“Jesus christ,” Tommy muttered, looking down at the wrappers at his feet. He kicked them to the side with a grimace and moved back up to the door. 

“Hey idiot! What’s wrong with you?!” Tommy shouted into the room. Techno huffed and turned to look at him with a scowl.

“Go away,” Techno mumbled and turned back to his computer.

“Is your room always this dirty?” Tubbo wondered. He didn’t mean for it to come off as an insult, but he couldn’t hold back his shock.

Techno didn’t respond, typing away at his keyboard instead. 

“What, are you deaf now, too?” Tommy shouted.

A low grunt started in Techno’s throat, which quickly erupted into a full-on yell. “Is it just ‘bully techno’ time or do you have something important to say? I’m busy, fuck off already,” he grumbled, his emotionless face turning red with annoyance.

The boys looked at each other, silently asking what they should do, when Wilbur brushed past them and walked into the filthy room. He staggered across the messy floor, only reaching Techno’s chair after nearly a minute of struggle. Tommy and Tubbo watched in horror, fearing Wilbur would face Techno’s wrath full-on. 

“Tommy said you were sitting at the table unresponsive last night. Your room get too messy for you to sit in, or did you just wanna spend some time with your family?” Wilbur teased, leaning against the railing of Techno’s loft bed.

Techno didn’t respond again. At his silence, Wilbur chuckled and scratched the top of his brother’s head playfully. Techno had dyed his hair pink the moment he first learned what hair dye was, and he had started growing it out a few years back. His hair was usually his pride and joy, but now he had clearly stopped paying it much attention if the greasy, dark brown hair around his scalp was any evidence.

“Your roots are growing back out, Techie,” he giggled and went to scratch harder before a hand shot up to grab his wrist painfully. Wilbur yelped and tried to retract his hand, but Techno’s grip only tightened, his nails carving into Wil’s skin.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Techno growled. He grabbed onto Wilbur’s arm tighter, tight enough to bruise, before letting go suddenly. Wilbur whimpered and massaged his hand, backing away from Techno. 

“You’re such a bitch,” Wilbur mumbled, nursing his wrist.

“Go. Away.” Techno’s tone was dark and warning.

“No, fuck you. You can’t just hurt me every time I do something you don’t like. I was just tryin’ to scratch your head, and you fucking claw at me? Like an animal? Jesus, Techno, what happened to you?” Wilbur exclaimed, voice raising as he continued to speak.

“I see you for the first time in weeks and you’ve got nothing to say except that? I was trying to be nice and everything, but no, you just had to ruin it like always. I don’t even know why I bother, honestly,” Wilbur scoffed and crossed his arms.

Techno paused the game to stare at Wilbur. His eyes were darker than Wilbur had ever seen them, but that didn’t quite register in Wilbur’s head. He made direct eye contact with his brother for a second too long before Techno’s glare turned into a scowl. 

“You’re high,” Techno stated, voice startlingly clear. Wilbur froze in his place, eyes wide. Eyes that, Techno noticed, were strangely red. 

“In front of the kids, too. Jesus, Wil, at least yell at me when you’re sober,” Techno muttered, disappointment heavy on his tongue. He turned his head back to face the screen, silently dismissing his older brother out of his room.

Wilbur stood with tense shoulders. He hadn’t expected Techno to call him out so blatantly, especially not like that. He tried to bite back with something he knew would get under Techno’s skin, but he was at a loss for words, the fight making his already fuzzy head foggier. He huffed, relaxing his posture, and stomped out of the room.

Tommy and Tubbo watched the ordeal unfold, apt with morbid curiosity and unusually silent the entire time. Wilbur shoved past them, and they watched him go angrily back to his room, slamming the door shut. 

The boys turned to look at each other, and with no words shared between them, they retreated off into Tommy’s room.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on twitter @star_fools i want more followers xoxo


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